


As Embers we paint the Sky

by Jantar



Category: ATEEZ (Band), Monsta X (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Angst, Civil War, Demon Jeon Jungkook, Demon Min Yoongi | Suga, Demon Park Seonghwa, Enemies to Lovers, M/M, Magic, Mental Instability, Slow Burn, Smut, Steampunk Technology, Weapons, minor implied sideships, strong themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-17
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-10-11 18:36:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17452277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jantar/pseuds/Jantar
Summary: In the steampunk city-state of Nidharos, deeply divided by unequal power and unbalanced wealth distribution, Taehyung is one of the last humans not willing to submit to the demons’ supremacy, planting together with a group of rebels the seeds of a civil war after the slaughter of his entire family by the hands of one of those creatures.His mind is controlled by hatred and revenge, however, hesitation fills his heart as a demon named Jeongguk enters his life, his fierce yet tormented eyes tied to him by an invisible thread of fate, a revelation from their past, bound to change their relationship forever, together with the destiny of all those linked to them.A/N: This story won't revolve solely around the pairing, since the focus will be on the events of the civil war and on the emotions of the whole group of rebels.





	1. Prologue: Crimson Thorn

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone! So, it seems that I started a new adventure, and this time the setting will be a steampunk world! Hope you will enjoy the prologue!

A gentle wind was blowing across the narrow street, light leaves whirling in the air in a fatal vernal dance. The night had already fallen upon the city and the gas lamps spread their dim light onto the dark walls of the buildings.

The fight was fierce, muscles hurting and screams cutting through the spring breeze. They had taken the demons by surprise; blood, so much blood was already on the ground, and he had thought that it would have been easier, but those creatures were stronger, so much more resistant then them.

There was a loud scream behind him, who was it? An enemy? A friend? His mind was restless and his body furious, but impatience in fights was the true enemy of a human, and sometimes he had that bad habit, to forget about simple rules. That was what happened, when the demon cornered him with a powerful kink against his knee, and his hand could only held the dagger higher, his mind quickly searching for solutions, for a weakness that could save his life.

However, just in that desperate moment, something in the air abruptly changed, and a feeble noise stopped the demon’s motion.

It was like a lighting, a flash of red coming from above.

Taehyung didn’t know who it was, nor from where that shadow came. It was only crimson hair, and then an agonizing scream echoing through the street, as the demon in front of him fell to the ground, lifeless, a long scarlet cut, deep, running down his back.

He raised his head, but whoever was there had just disappeared out of thin air, leaving Taehyung frozen in place, eyes wide open with his dagger still ready to hit.

Left, right. No one.

Jimin had moved from his initial position and was now beside him observing him with suspicious eyes. Taehyung realized that their opponents had been killed, one by one, and he let out a sigh of relief.

“What’s wrong, Taehyung?”

Still catching his breath, he quickly shook his head. “Nothing.”

Jimin didn’t insist.

Taehyung observed for the last time the surroundings. A part of him wanted to remain there, exploring the entire area, to find the answer behind those crimson hair, behind the hand that saved him; however, there was no time.

“Taehyung, here!” Jimin’s voice reached him already from the other side of the road, bringing him back from his own thoughts, and as soon as he turned his back, his friend’s long shadow was already disappearing beyond a dark alley to his left. He could hear it clear now, the noise of the authorities’ steam car definitely audible in the distance, so he immediately ran towards the voice, and once he jumped into the darkness a small hand grabbed his mantle.

Just a few moments later he found himself inside of an abandoned building, running again through rooms and corridors following Jimin’s light steps, down a flight of stairs, and then outside again, trying to reach the upper part of the district.

It was just after having left several streets and boulevards behind them that they both dared to pause in a narrow stair away from every source of light, under the arch of a silent house.

“We did it, we lost them!” whispered Jimin while gasping for air.

“Yeah, I can’t hear them. Are you okay? Wounds? Something broken? Why did Hyejin and Wheein disappear in the middle of the fight?”

The older of the two sighed silently while getting back on the narrow alley, towards their secret lab. “I’m okay. However, Wheein got shot in the arm, so I told them to hurry and follow Hoseok back to the shelter. The two of us were enough at that point of the mission, after all…”

Taehyung widened his eyes. “Shit. I didn’t realize. That demon I was fighting was literally breathing on my neck.”

Jimin nodded visibly lost in thought, leading their way with his eyes fixed on the ground, and in that moment Taehyung couldn’t help but wonder if the other was keeping something from him. They had been best friends for the longest time, and he knew that there was something tormenting him, making him act in a different way.

He could do nothing but wait, walk side by side as they always did, being there when his friend was ready to speak.

And so they walked in silence, and it took other ten minutes for them to arrive to their secret place. Contrary to popular belief, the shelter was actually a rather big house situated in one of the wealthiest streets of the Third District, with a convenient dark grove of pine trees just beyond the courtyard allowing them to undertake their rebellious actions with enough secrecy.

There was a suffused light coming from the first window on the ground floor, the sweet melody of a piano filling the nocturnal air with a nostalgic tune.

They quickly left the shadow of the pine trees and the back door opened as soon as they had crossed the yard, revealing Hoseok’s concerned face. “Thank the Gods you are both fine. Those demons were a tough fight.”

They nodded tiredly and the older let them in, Jimin leaving his gun to Taehyung and quickly disappearing upstairs with both their daggers to clean. Taehyung remained with Hoseok, walking together through the big living room towards a small stair leading to the basement.

“How is Wheein?”

Hoseok showed him a small smile as he walked past the last step of the narrow stairs. “She will be fine. It was a single shot in the forearm, Seokjin is already taking care of it.”

“Good.”

The first room of the basement was lightly illuminated by a single lamp in the corner, a big map of the city-state of Nidharos completely covering the surface of the small wooden table at the center of the room.

Hyejin was sitting with her legs crossed on the couch, blood still on her shirt and gaze lowered to the ground. By her side, Seunghoon was seemingly asleep, Seokjin’s black cat lying on his lap and following their movements with yellow attentive eyes.

Taehyung quickly reached a black door behind the couch, giving access to another room, previously converted in a small armory where they kept all of their weapons – rifles, guns, crossbows and different kinds of knives and daggers –, and there he left his and Jimin’s guns under the curious gaze of the cat.

He absolutely needed a bath, but his body was tired, almost exhausted after the draining fight of that night. Originally it was supposed to be nothing more than one of their usual patrols to keep an eye on the most dangerous streets of the District, where humans were more frequent to get attacked by demons, but the night took a turn when some strange noises came from one of the small houses facing the walls dividing the Third from the Forth sector.

While the First and Second Districts were inhabited only by demons, it was normal to find wealthy families of humans living in the Third District, which was relatively safer if compared to the lower sectors of the city. The government usually authorized those families to live there because of some presumed merits, which in reality could be resumed in their willingness to cooperate in order to oppress the remaining majority of the human population, forced to live in constant danger, if not in slavery-like conditions in the two lowest sectors.

However, in the suburbs of the Third District, it was frequent to witness to a hidden trafficking of humans, usually for sexual exploitation, humans captured from the slums of the city in condition of absolute poverty.

That was, in fact, what was happening into that small house as their patrol entered the suburbs, and as the first scream had echoed through the street no one of them had hesitated to break into the house and stop whatever was happening inside.

The demons were four. Four were almost too much for seven humans, but luckily their attack had turned out to be successful, all of the beasts taken down after a ferocious fight, while Byulyi and Yongsun got the poor victims, two girls and one boy, quickly out of the house.

Escaping the demonic authorities afterwards had also been easier than usual, so that both he and Jimin could return to the shelter without having to split up or, worse, fight again.

With a tired sigh, he took off the mantle throwing it over one of the chairs. Blood was still on his hands, staining his shirt and leather waistcoat; he closed his eyes for some seconds as he abandoned his tired body on the couch.

“The girls and the boy… are they safe?”

Hyejin, beside him, was slightly startled by his voice suddenly breaking the silence. “They are in one of the bedrooms, we should try to bring them back to their families tomorrow.”

Seunghoon, probably woken up by their voices, acknowledged Taehyung’s presence with a gesture of his hand. The cat jumped on the floor seemingly annoyed, disappearing upstairs in a matter of seconds.

“Have you listened to the news, Taehyung?”

He slowly shook his hand, puzzled by Hyejin’s strange smile.   

“It seems that one of the Valars is missing.”

“What?!”

His eyes snapped open almost comically, causing the woman’s loud laughs.

The Valars, the twenty most powerful demons of Nidharos, the long discussed project created decades before in order to keep the best warriors of the reign at the service of the government and the city.

“Someone says that they tried to cover everything up with some excuses until this moment, but now, it seems that the truth is starting to emerge. There’s a bounty on his head or something like that, he’s a traitor.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Hyejin!”

“I swear, I’m telling the truth! I overheard some conversations… that demon tried to kill several of his kind, supposedly one year ago more or less, he’s been imprisoned, then escaped, and now… they want him dead!”

Taehyung stood up in agitation, starting to walk back and forth in front of the couch.

“Why on earth no one talked about it back then? This seems quite a big deal.”

Seunghoon interrupted his agitated motion grabbing his wrist. “Sit, please. I doubt it would have been that convenient for them to say the truth, Taehyung. They couldn’t risk letting the news spread among us humans. That would have meant to admit that there are internal divisions, weaknesses. But now, that demon went rogue, they can’t hide it now, and they want his head.”

Hoseok, who had remained quiet until that moment in front of the library, moved some steps towards them, crossing his arms above his chest. “Which number. Which number is he?”

“The Thirteenth, Jeon Jeongguk, is it?"

Taehyung turned with an open mouth towards the woman. "No way. The young promise? The son of the Colonel of the army?" A loud laugh escaped his throat. "Hilarious, just hilarious."

Out of the corner of his eyes, Taehyung could see the harsh look Hoseok gave him, but he chose to ignore the silent reprimand.

“Image if we could have him on our side…”

“No, Hyejin, absolutely not.”

“What? Why?!”

“No, it won’t happen. I won’t ever let a demon join our movement.”

“The eventuality of some demons taking our side is something fantastic, Taehyung. I want to believe that not all of them are the same, I want to believe that there’s some good in them too.”

“Create your own division, then. I won’t tolerate any demon under my supervision. They can’t be trusted, no matter what. First rule: the enemy of my enemy isn’t my friend, remember?”

“Taehyung…” Seunghoon rolled his eyes, but the younger was quick to interrupt him.

“But we can use him, let him do his things, kill some demons easing our work maybe, hopefully.”

“So stubborn.”

Almost covering Seunghoon’s voice completely, just in that moment Seokjin opened the lab’s door with a vivid satisfied expression, immediately followed by Namjoon. “Done! Our Wheein is okay.”

“What would we do without our excellent doctor?”

Seokjin laughed quietly at Hyejin’s remark, only to stop immediately as soon as his eyes met the large stains of blood on her and Taehyung’s clothes.

“What are you doing there, sitting on my couch all dirty and sweaty.”

Taehyung smirked as he exchanged a wink with Hyejin, knowing all too well that Seokjin would have been extremely pissed about what he was going to say. “As soon as this house will be truly yours and not your parent’s.”

Seokjin, who had stopped in front of them with his hands on his hips, opened his mouth in astonishment, throwing him the dirty rag lying on his shoulder. “Kim Taehyung! I pay everything here, I don’t even know if my wealthy, bastard parents living in the Second Sector are still aware of the existence of this house, so yes, this is all mine and you have to follow my rules.” Snorting he made a quick gesture with his hand, picking up the rag and turning his back on them. “I’ll go upstairs. Go take a bath before I come down here again.”

Seunghoon, beside him, was still shaking his head, by now probably too used to those scenes. “You never learn, Tae.” Then he got up, sitting next to Namjoon who was by the table with his eyes focused on the map.

“Thinking about out next moves, leader?”

The man nodded but remained silent, too concentrated in whatever strategy his mind was elaborating. It was extremely difficult to see their leader’s smile those days, and everyone could understand why, that deep responsibility of people’s, friend’s lives in the first stages of what could definitely be considered a civil war, those times when demons and humans were able to coexist a long forgotten memory of ancient times.

Beside him, Hyejin squeezed his shoulder lightly and Taehyung answered with a smile, before the woman quietly got up from the couch and disappeared upstairs.

He tried to relax a bit, to take his mind away from too many concerns, from hesitations and uncertainty towards the future. However, as he observed Namjoon tracing imaginary lines above the map, he couldn’t help but think about that thing that was bothering him, that dangerous seed stuck in his mind, making him feel threatened since days.

“I wanted to talk about something.”

Seunghoon turned his attention to him, eyes serious encouraging him to speak.

“Why do you want them with us, Namjoon?”

The older man finally raised his eyes from the map. Hoseok, who had been strangely silent that night, snorted at the question, crossing his arms and quickly reaching the couch sitting with an annoyed frown.

“What are you talking about, Taehyung?”

Observing Namjoon’s features as they painted a perplexed expression, he slowly let his body relax against the backrest, eyes lost among those walls devoid of windows.

“I don’t trust those two new guys, Hyunwoo and Hoseok, or Wonho as you call him. They are from the Districts at the foot of the mountains, the poorest, most dangerous areas of the city, and you know that those humans living there like beasts can hardly be trusted. They can’t read, they can’t write, they hate everyone be it a demon or a human.”

There was something similar to disappointment in Namjoon’s eyes, which couldn’t help but make Taehyung feel hurt. “They are different. Soon you will notice that too.”

Taehyung shook his head. He didn’t like those people at all, too buried under piles of dirt and filth, under a too cruel reality turning all of them into beasts; however, Namjoon seemed to trust those two men with his whole heart and soul, beyond his own understanding.

“All of this is possible because you gave us hope, because we live in solitude and isolation, in fear, surrounded but demons exploiting humans, but since the first day of our desperate mission you trusted me as the leader. Now, I’m here asking you to trust my judgement.” Namjoon sighed, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose. All of a sudden, a strange noise came from the room next door, distracting the man for a moment, eyes briefly closing in annoyance. “Siha! Hoyeon! Stop that!”

Taehyung threw him a strange look, but the leader didn’t seem to care. “Anyway, we have to convince more people to join us, we must find a way. We don’t have the luxury to refuse their help when even one single person can make the difference. Hyunwoo and Wonho are strong, trained to sustain, to _win_ , a fight against some of the most powerful demons.”

Taehyung knew that the other man was right, yet he couldn’t help but feel suspicious towards the two men. They both were born in the suburbs of Choe-ark, infamous as the district with the highest number of murders – both among demons and humans, drug dealers and suicides.

There were in fact actual no-go zones developing freely at the feet of the mountains, whereas the wealthy and prosperous side of the demonic society lived in the center of the valley, where the administrative and governmental buildings were all located, and up into the mountains peaks, huge palaces and villas controlling with ravenous eyes the lower sectors.

So deep in his thoughts, he jumped in his seat almost scared as another noise made Namjoon snort in exasperation. “Siha… Hoyeon! Stop It, please!” he complained while approaching the above-mentioned room followed by Seunghoon and Hoseok, all of them alarmed by the chaos coming from there. “You can’t just make that thing… what is it called again, computer, work. It has never existed something like that, and it never will! Look, there’s so much smoke in this room?! Only you two can…”

Namjoon’s voice was slowly disappearing, hidden by noises and too many people suddenly talking together, and like that, Taehyung was left alone in front of the map.

Soon the melody of the cuckoo clock filled the room, warning him that the dawn was already approaching. It was an ancient piece once owned by his family, that old cuckoo clock, the bronze gears working tirelessly inside of a peculiar structure, something vaguely resembling a Gothic building, and a sinuous line with mysterious inscriptions followed the waves of bare branches craved in the metal, while long spider legs elegantly framed the pendulum. One of the last memories left by his parents, something from a past that will never come back.

Contemplating the map one last time, he shook his head and slowly left the room, too many fears towards the future and the image of dark crimson hair like a dream in his mind.

 

 

∼

 

 

“You can’t hide in here forever, Jeongguk.”

There was a mirror on the right side of the bed. It wasn’t too big, a layer of dust covering its deceptive surface, but bright enough that he could clearly see his own face. He hated it.

“Get up, please.”

He hated everything about that figure, those unnaturally sharp features, sickly pallor cruelly contrasting against those dark shadows circling his eyes and the intense red of his lips, continuously bitten by sharp teeth, almost neurotically in his state of apathetic anxiety. The thin silver ring at the right corner of his bottom lip was by now just a useless item reminding him of an easier past, something even painful to look at in its full display of futility.

A stranger.

His hair were tiredly falling on his forehead and on the surface of the pillow, a dull black, all its brightness faded away during one year of forced isolation, of physical tortures and damaged mental state.

Moving his eyes a little, he could see the young woman from the reflection drawn onto the mirror, an apprehensive look darkening her features.

Yura had found him. Yura had put his pieces together again, she and Yoongi, her brother and his dearest friend. They were able to gather all those pieces of his broken self, putting him together, feeding him, cleaning him, caring for him when he wasn’t even able to.

“I can’t do this anymore. I can’t watch you wither day by day without even trying to… to…”

Yura’s words died in her mouth before they could reach him.

“To what?” To speak was difficult. He barely spoke, and to think that once he loved to sing…

“To live.”

_To live…_

Was there even a life waiting for him outside of that shelter?

“I was lucky that I found you, but I never wanted to see you like this, like an empty shell with broken dreams.” Yura was sitting next to him, a thumb brushing some hair away from his eyes. “You were so strong, you still are. You escaped Tar’arkan, alone, and that number is still on you…”

“No.” At the mention of that word, of that cursed number, an invisible force hit him like a stab, and he immediately sat up with his fists gripping the sheets, eyes wide almost hurting. “No. No!”

That number, that merciless number marked on his shoulder. And yet it was his own blood’s fault, his family’s, of that cruel program started centuries ago by the high hierarchies of Haylara.

“Why did you left Tar’arkan, Jeongguk? To survive like this? To spend the rest of your life pathetically closed among four walls, eating, sleeping, shouting during nightmares?”

“Stop.” His hands had left the sheets, and were now spasmodically gripping his own thin shirt, arms closed around his own waist in an attempt of shielding himself from those words.

“What are you implying, Yura?” His voice was low, a painful smile deforming his features. “That I have to fight on behalf of every demon who doesn’t have the guts to rebel against this monstrous state? Why does it have to be me?”

“You know that’s not it.”

“He is right though, Yura.”

A sharp voice came from the entrance of the room, asking for their attention.

“Yoongi?” Yura’s tone was feeble, as if she couldn’t believe to see her brother there.

One month had already passed since the last time Jeongguk had seen him. During the first two months of recovery hidden in that well known house, Yoongi had barely left his side, always helping his too weak body with the most trivial challenges. He made sure that Jeongguk could regain some weight, too used to see that body once so fit, and after the imprisonment so thin that he was always scared to break him. _Yet, why is this number still here?_ He had slept by his side during the most difficult nights, almost cradling him between his arms, and Jeongguk has felt so dependent from that man, that he had almost started feeling ashamed of himself. Had Yoongi sensed that? Or had he distanced himself for completely different reasons?

Looking at the light in his eyes, Yura got up from the bed, slowly walking outside the room after whispering something into his brother's ear.

As his sister finally closed the door of the room, Yoongi walked towards the bed and ended up sitting in front of Jeongguk, legs crossed and eyes on the dark blue cover.

"You don't have to fight."

It took some moments for him to fully catch Yoongi’s words, and when he did, he hoped that the older could look at him in the eyes.

"Just, I don't want them to capture you again, Jeongguk. I don't want..." His hand suddenly moved, hesitantly, and grabbed Jeongguk’s wrist, thumb slowly tracing the length of a faded scar. "You can remain here, and if someone will suspect something, we will find a solution, I don't really care. Please... I..."

Listening at Yoongi’s voice getting lower and lower, Jeongguk was left speechless, as the older demon never, never let his cold façade fall like that, showing his vulnerability almost at the verge of tears in front of others.

“I’m not going to fight.”

Yoongi scoffed at those words, tightening his hold around his wrist. “I know you. I know that it’s a matter of time before you decide to do something stupid again. I just wish you could follow my advice for once, but you are so stubborn…”

His hand lightly moved down, thumb gently touching his palm, brushing his fingers. “I never agreed with your plan. Risking your life for some useless humans!”

“Stop…”

“You were the most fearless warrior, you were destined to reach the top, to be the First.”

Jeongguk shook his head, removed his hand from Yoongi’s touch, but the older didn’t care, he didn’t stop.

“I can’t understand you, they are all ready to forgive you, the king, the army… they need you, your strength. Why, why Gods, you never begged for forgiveness, even after tortures, pain… for those humans??”

“Stop. Stop!”

“Think about it, everything will be like before, when we were happy…”

“How… how can you say those things? To me? Why now?” Jeongguk hid his face behind his hands, shivering, barely able to breathe, chest going up and down painfully in his hunched position. “We murderers, we disease! We fight against humans, against each other, we are vomit in an open wound! The exterior is the brightness of gold, but our insides are rotten!”

The older immediately froze in front of his words, hands falling on his lap.

“Is this the reason why you left me for one month, alone with Yura, just as I was getting better… Leave me alone again then!”

However, Yoongi didn’t move.

“Leave!”

He just remained there, staring at him as if awaken from a long, dreadful dream. And just a few moments later he felt those familiar arms around him, an endless litany of apologies falling from the older’s mouth.

He was trying to convince himself that he didn’t want that embrace, that he didn’t need it. But Yoongi was hurt, he was hurt just like him; all those horrors, fear, tears… he just let it all go, falling back so weak against the pillow, Yoongi never breaking their contact, finally by his side again.

“I’m sorry.”

Jeongguk could imagine Yoongi’s sad smile against his shoulder as he apologized for the hundredth time, while for the first time he reciprocate the hug, arms encircling the older demon’s shoulders.

“It pains me, all of these. I’m confused… about a lot of things. I shouldn’t have talked to you like that. Everything just hit me so hard. I miss you, your silly jokes, your smile. I know that you will never beg for forgiveness, and maybe you are right. I know we can’t get the past back, I just wish we could.”

Birds of dusk were releasing their chants outside, gentle breeze entering the room, so contrasting with the tempest in their mind.

“Maybe I’m only scared, because… maybe I understand you more than what I want to admit.”

 

 

 

His hair was as red as ruby, crimson like that first time he had dyed it for fun five years before, finally all back with his forehead completely free. It was a strange sensation, to observe his own image on the mirror that day, almost like going back in time, before the imprisonment, before his life had changed completely.

He had put two plain, thick rings on that miserable hand, the same hand that took the life of two creatures of his own kind, never regretting it, never mourning for them.

There was still that solitude oppressing him, Yura and Yoongi’s love the only affection to follow him in that new adventure, when only weapons would become his loyal companions.

It hadn’t been easy to steal them from the local armory that same night, but he still remembered some tricks form the academy’s years, and so there they were: one of the most precise rifles of the last decade was hooked on his back, with two integrated and extractable daggers for hand-to-hand combat inserted in the special design; a small set of throwing knives hanged on his hip from the bullet belt. There was also the crossbow on the table of his room, to keep in his future shelter for emergencies.

He carefully put the venom in his saddlebag and the needles hidden into the leg belt, and everything was almost ready.

With shaky hands he grabbed the little paper from his pillow, a short letter he had written for Yura and Yoongi. Will Yoongi ever forgive him?

What’s done is done, never turn back.

It all began that day when two demons had tried to kill an innocent family of humans in the public square for trivial reasons; he couldn’t stand that sight, that sour, bitter taste on his mouth making his stomach hurt. He had to save them, he had to.

Yet he could save only one, one of the little girls crying as he handed her into the arms of a speechless woman. Mother, father, sister, everyone was slaughtered in front of the indifference of demons, and then they took him, they tortured him, called him betrayer among the Valars. While in prison he wanted death, he wanted death but it could never come, because of that number, magical ink on his skin, once a source of pride and now a ferocious course.

From prison to another prison, that was it, and that wasn’t his life. Yura was right, and maybe it was his destiny, to start a hopeless battle, to seek revenge, to hope for death… or maybe, to seek justice for those who died innocent.

 

 

_Yura, Yoongi,_

_Thank you for kind words and gentle stares_

_It’s easier to wither in the shadow of an old companion_

_But what I started must find its end_

_Be it death or a victorious day._

_By dawn I will be gone_

_Don’t reach for me_

_But if you truly want _

_You will find me in the shadow of the maple trees._

_J.JK_

That was it, the beginning of a new chapter of life, a new escape with a sweeter taste, yet always sorrowful. And maybe it all truly started there, in the filthy suburbs of the Third District, in front of deep human eyes full of grief, with his dagger cutting through demonic flesh before that creature of his own kind could take the sparkle of life away from them.

_Who are you?_

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was one of those moments when his mind kept losing the focus, when his body couldn’t concentrate on the people around him. He felt like suffocating, he felt like everything was too big for him. Yet he was the one who started everything, and he would do that again and again, because that was the only right thing to do. The pressure, the hate burning inside of him, they were eating him alive, while fueling his spirit at the same time towards the sweetest yearning for freedom.

The silvery shine of the moonlight entered the old attic through the torn curtains, lightly waving in the feeble breeze coming from the open window.

The blade flashed weak flares in the dark room, illuminated only by an oil lamp in the corner, as the water cleaned the weapon from the dried blood.

The tenth.

That was the tenth demon, killed by his hands. He had never felt regret, not back then when he killed the firsts in the public square, those bastards slaughtering an entire family, not that night, saving the mysterious rebel.

A week had already passed since he left Yoongi’s house, walking then through the Third Sector in order to find a place to hide, from where he could work on his plan, training hard to get his strength back.

It was after the second night that he finally found that abandoned attic, a modest room with a small bathroom, whose previous owner had probably been one of those broke human painters wandering through the city streets seeking their fortune. That was, judging by some spots of color staining the floor and an old rug near the window.

As every trace of blood had finally disappeared, he turned off the faucet grabbing a piece of cloth.

His thought, however, were still focused on the events of that night, still too surprised to see humans taking down demons so easily. Demons were stronger, more resistance, and especially, a lot of them were trained to use magic, yet those humans had fought them without any trace of fear.

Before that tragic day when he was tried, no human had ever dared to rebel against the ruling class of demons, and during those months he had been imprisoned, no news reached him in that place of pain and desperation. Yoongi and Yura never talked about it either.

What had happened during those months of forced isolation? Was it possible that humans had started to organize in secret groups, to stand up against the demons?

_Maybe, if I could reach for them…_

For a long moment he closed his eyes. His mind was still unstable; he could feel those moments of determination and energy suddenly replaced by distress and emptiness, that dark desire of letting go of everything, surrendering to the waves, to the storm of a rotten society.

With a sigh, he placed the now clean dagger in a small wooden table besides the sink, taking then his time observing the city outside the window, weakly illuminated by the streetlights. As he moved his gaze down to the adjacent street, a lamplighter was placing his ladder against the wall of the near building, in order to quickly renew the oil of the extinguished street lamp.

Just in that moment, the clattering of a train against the tracks echoed through the silent night, followed by a high whistling as the steam locomotive appeared on the elevated railway, which twisted and turned following the structure of the mountains and then sinking among the big buildings of the Sector.

Taking a deep breath, he let the window slightly opened, and he was walking towards his humble bed, just a mattress at the far corner of the room, when a barely audible rustle came from behind him.

There was a sudden shift in the air, a peculiar electricity threatening his senses, and without hesitation he let the stiletto slide from his sleeve, throwing it with an half turn towards the origin of the noise.

As he faced the intruder, his eyes snapped open, meeting the figure of a young man he knew all too well, sitting legs crossed on the windowsill with an ambiguous smile. Blond hair gently waved in the breeze, elegantly adorning his face slightly tilted to the side, features so astonishing they could have been born from the precise lines of a classical painter, his eyes icy grey fixed on his own as a silent call through a world of supernatural visions, so bright reflecting the dim light of the room.

The demon prince of Nidharos jumped down from the windowsill, the frills of the white shirt dancing in the motion, cloth softly embracing his slim yet pleasant figure.

“I won’t kneel to you.”

Seonghwa simply shrugged. “I won’t ask you to.”

There were no weapons, no leg belts attached to his leather pants; only the sharp stiletto he was able to catch while still flying in the air. How?

“Seonghwa. How did you find me?” Jeongguk’s tone was as harsh as steel, however, the prince seemed unfazed, letting the stiletto fall on the floor, walking then towards the center of the room and sitting on one of the two chairs by the table. His face slowly fell facing the wooden surface, one hand hiding his eyes as the other asked Jeongguk to take the sit in front of him with a soft movement.

Jeongguk hesitated, causing the Prince to speak for the first time. “Jeongguk. Please, sit.”

There was a different shade in his voice, not as cold and detached as he remembered from their previous meetings at the royal court. He slowly took the steps that divided him from the table, eyes never leaving Seonghwa’s figure, and eventually sat in front of him.

“So, what are you doing here, Seonghwa? Answer me.”

The prince let both hands fall abandoned against the table, revealing the tiredness clearly evident in his features. Yet he remained silent.

They were good friends back then, Jeongguk’s family having connections with the royal house; however, those times seemed lost in a different time, in a too distant past, because too much had happened in those endless months.

“Oh, fucking hell, just answer me! Do you want to hand me to the authorities? Or are you here to kill me?”

All of a sudden, Seonghwa seemed to wake up from his numbness, eyes almost lost as he finally met Jeongguk’s. “I had no idea...”

“What are you talking about?”

“What you did that day, in the courthouse’s square. You tried to save them, you tried to save those humans. I didn’t know there were others… I was so relieved, yet scared at the same time!”

Jeongguk observed the younger demon in shock, trying to catch the meaning behind his words. “Others?”

“I don’t want this, I hate what my family and our government are doing, I…”

Jeongguk laughed, maybe almost too loudly, interrupting the Prince. “Do you? You’re quite a murderer yourself, aren’t you? I remember those times you…” However, suddenly his words died in his mouth.

There was something in Seonghwa’s face, a pained expression he hadn’t expected to see, so discordant if compared to those times he had seemed completely unfazed by brutal murders in front of his eyes, even approving them, even giving his final words and command the death of men.

As if he could read his mind, Seonghwa shook his head, a bitter grimace twisting his features. “I wasn’t as strong as you. I thought I didn’t have a choice, being part of the royal family, the forced etiquette... it was a matter of survival at the end, me or them. But then I came to know what you did that day…”

“I still don’t understand what you’re implying.”

Seonghwa let out a shaky breath, biting his lips. “I helped you out, Jeongguk.”

However, Jeongguk kept feeling always more and more puzzled, crossing his arms as he frowned in confusion. “You helped me out?”

The Prince nodded, fingers playing nervously with the hem of his shirt. He had never seemed that vulnerable before, not in front of him. “From prison. I knew that you were waiting for the right time, that you were ready to take advantage of every minimal distraction, and let’s say that… that I made it happen.”

Jeongguk’s mouth dropped open as that was one of the last thing he had imagined to hear. “How?”

“The whole story is too long, but… through anonymous false information, I provoked quite a major scale conflict in the Last Sector, and the outburst of it was so violent that it took some extra soldiers from the guard to sedate the chaos. That’s why you didn’t find much resistance in your way out.”

“So you mean to tell me that the sleepy guard in front of my cell was a lucky coincidence? I…”

“Ah, about that… I gave him a light narcotic during the general meeting that took place that same day.”

“Hell, here I was, thinking that I actually did something impressive.”

“You did. You killed six demons and eluded the remaining security in something like twenty minutes.” A discreet laugh. “It was chaos, the entire system freaked out that night, because no one could find you… but I had no doubt about that, about you.”

While observing him in that moment, Jeongguk realized that, in some way, the Prince had always been a mystery for him. His eyes were fierce in public, words as sharp as knives, provoking the hate from humans and fear from demons. Yet despite all of this, despite a heart that was said to be born from ice and stone, Seonghwa had a warm smile. He could listen to other people, he was by Jeongguk’s side during the toughest times of his military training. Which was the mask?

He could already feel that lost sensation of hope blooming quietly inside of his chest, but the rational part of him couldn’t disappear in front of emotions, not when suspicion and mistrust were just around the corner. Every wrong move could have brought everything to ruins. “Why are you here, Seonghwa?”

The Prince looked at him with an enigmatic gaze, a few seconds of silence before starting to speak. “You know when… when the Third of the project, Jaeyoung, disappeared one night of two years ago just before you were imprisoned, and his place has remained vacant till now, because no one has presented yet?”

“Of course I remember. What does it have to do with all of this?”

Seonghwa smiled nervously as his trembling fingers slowly started to unbutton the right cuff of his shirt, inexorably revealing a sinuous line shaping the number “three”.

Jeongguk jumped on his sit, shaking his head and grabbing the other’s wrist. “No, that’s not possible.” With his thumb he traced the dark line marking the smooth skin; there was no doubt, that tattoo emanated the same light warm as his own. “How?”

“I killed him.” He whispered quickly hiding the number, eyes escaping the sudden shock on Jeongguk face. “It was after one of your meetings, after one of those tests to evaluate the success of the project. As you know, we used to meet once in a while. He was talking about the little conflict at the northern border, when your battalion had suppressed the attempted trespass of the barbarian tribes, but then… then he started raving about how those foreigners were so similar to the people living here in the Fifth and Sixth Sector. I said that I should have talked to the Council to finally take a decision regarding the Low Sector’s issue, that we had to solve the problem once and for all.” Seonghwa suddenly stood up, walking in distress and stopping only in front of the window. He put his hands on the windowsill, back against the glass. “Solving the problem meant to raze the entire sectors. But I… I couldn’t let that happen, right? Thousands of humans, demons, murdering everyone, for what? Because we care more about our social status, even if it means to destroy our State? Everything is falling apart, the Council is breaking apart, both the army and my family are exclusively interested in their own benefit...”

Jeongguk felt a shiver through his spine, the only possibility of that tragedy numbing his senses, and he slowly stood up, moving closer to the Prince. “Is the Council seriously taking into consideration this eventuality? What was your answer?”

“Yes, some proposed this, but they are hesitant. I… I couldn’t let someone like Jaeyoung fuel those plans. I refused, told him that it was madness, that I would have stopped him. We had a terrible argument after that, and then, then he attacked me. I don’t know how it happened, I’ve never been as strong as you for example, you know that. Yet I killed him, I killed him! Because I felt so desperate, so tired of facing responsibilities I didn’t want… he probably thought that I wouldn’t try anything, he was so sure that he could kill me, I could see that in his eyes. We fought brutally, I shouted some spells, I was so confused and wounded, but eventually he fell lifeless against the ground. Suddenly I felt a sharp pain through all my body, but I didn’t have time to think about pain and stuff, I just covered every trace, burned the body getting quickly rid of it, and that was it. When I woke up in the morning, this number was inked on my skin and every wound had disappeared.”

“Suddenly it was like I turned into the host of his powers, I’m faster, stronger, I can jump higher, just like you. It was in that moment that I thought that, maybe, I could really do something to make things right. I had a real possibility of taking you out of Tar’arkan, and I still can’t believe that you are free from that horrendous place! So, as soon as I heard that some weapons were stolen, I immediately thought that it had to be you, even if months had already passed since the day of your escape.” Suddenly he raised his hands, hiding his face completely behind them. “How were you? Did you have someone helping you? I couldn’t find you, I couldn’t be with you, I’m so sorry…”

Those words hit him abruptly like a stab into his stomach. He needed someone to care, he needed someone to trust, but how could he, in the middle of a society full of cruelty and treachery? He was so used with it, being alone with different dreams. “I’m wondering now… do you really care? You are here because you need my help, aren’t you? In the name of our lost friendship?”

At the harsh question, Seonghwa froze for some seconds, hurt evident in his eyes. “Lost? Why do you keep treating me like an enemy?” His hand suddenly grabbed Jeongguk’s, making him jolt in surprise. “I’ve always been by your side, I’m your friend. I tried so hard to help you when everything happened, but there was nothing I could do alone.”

Jeongguk stayed quiet, studying Seonghwa’s face. In that particular moment, standing in front of him during endless seconds of silence, he felt weak and nauseous. Confusion crawled through the wrinkles of his mind, because he was painfully aware that after torture and pain, the whole world, every people in front of him, had started to seem like an enemy. He had assumed that every past relationship was broken, that there would have been only hostility awaiting for him except for Yura and Yoongi, yet as he looked into Seonghwa’s eyes, he couldn’t seem to find any trace of deceit and manipulation, but only expectation, hope. Loneliness.

They could be allies. Friends?

“Please, Jeongguk. We can work together, we can help each other.” The Prince’s voice sounded almost like a plea, and Jeongguk couldn’t help but ask himself how had really been his life inside of dark palaces of power.

As Seonghwa moved closer, he accepted his embrace, giving the same in return.

“I’ll work with you. However, I can’t completely trust you yet.”

The Prince quickly took one step back; Jeongguk could almost see his grateful smile reaching his eyes.

“Sometimes I can see it, maybe what’s ahead of us will be different.”

The whistling of another train came from outside.

Jeongguk heard Seonghwa’s words as if they rose from an oneiric dimension, suspended in the tense air of the room. Could their world really change? Could they really believe it?

“Now I have to leave.” Seonghwa jumped on the windowsill, timeless features at the pale moonlight. “I must be in my rooms before the sun will rise. Greykross Street, we’ll meet there inside the old art gallery. In two days, same hour.”

After that, he disappeared in the dark morning.

The bells of the Central Tower sang a low tune, barely perceptible; the morning lights were approaching. Tiredly he closed the window, and with pensive eyes and tormented thoughts, he let his body fall on the bed, deprived of every strength.

 

∼ 

 

Taehyung sat in front of the piano, quietly observing the spot beside him where Seokjin had been until that moment, fingers travelling elegantly over the black and white keys.

The light tune stopped abruptly as Seokjin stood up leaving his side, walking silently towards one of the sofas were other rebels were sitting.

Minutes passed as hours, and no one tried to speak, all of them waiting, thinking, remembering. Those last few days had been particularly complicated, full of fights and risks, the authorities breathing on their necks.

Jimin sighed loudly running a hand through his hair, and at the same time Taehyung stood up, walking towards the window.

It was in that moment that the waited four knocks awakened everyone’s curiosity – everyone’s but Taehyung’s – and Seunghoon was the first to stand up, quickly opening the door and letting the two long discussed men inside.

As a matter of fact, they appeared just as Taehyung had expected them to. Tall, visibly sturdy through their dark clothes, the sharp gaze of people used to live among hardships. Yet, how could he trust them completely, when every morality was a forgotten memory in those rotten suburbs of the lower Sectors?

Namjoon was immediately behind Seunghoon, and the both of them shook their hands with strong energy and warm smiles.

“Welcome, guys. Please, come inside.”

As Namjoon closed the door, the two young men put their heavy bags on the floor while glancing at the big room full of people.

“Thank you, Namjoon, for having us here.” The first to speak, a strong accent marking every word, was the taller of the two, hair dark and a surprising gentle smile decorating his face. The other man, on the contrary, had his mouth closed on a thin line, whispering only a small thank you followed by a light bow. Despite a certain softness in his features, Taehyung could see a clear shadow flashing through his eyes, like an opaque veil formed as a barrier to the outside world.

Seokjin bowed in front of them with a smile, pointing to the stairs with an elegant gesture of his arm. “Please, follow me. I’ll show you where you can put your bags, and after that we can do all the presentations.”

And then Taehyung waited in strict silence, as he could feel that a veil of excitement vibrated through the room, a common sensation whenever a new fighter joined their rebellion. Rationally, he knew that the best thing to do would have been to give those young men a chance; however, during those past years, during those months following that dreadful day when he lost everything, his faith, his trust had gradually disappeared, too disgusted by what his eyes had seen once the darkness of the world in which they lived and the despair of the human condition became his daily reality.

He was alone when it happened, working in a small shop of the Third Sector, and the details of the event reached him during the late hours of the day, when he was finally ready to go back home to his family.

He never went home that night, because suddenly there was no one waiting for him in the small living room of his apartment, no more laughs, no more cries, no more warmth and just a freezing cold.

That day, his parents had left their neighborhood together with his two little sisters and took a train to reach the Central Sector, to complete the registration process to the school system. It all happened in the courthouse’s square, oh bitter irony, where one of the darkest pages of the recent histories took place under the fearful eyes of dozens of people. Blood had run through the cracks of the paving stones, cries and scream so loud had filled the air of the entire sector.

And after that there was pity every time he looked friends and acquaintances in the eyes, there was sympathy, sometimes there was participation, and he just abandoned that suburb which once was his, sold the old house and started using the money at the sake of his own revenge.

How did his family die?

He didn’t know. No human witness left that crowded square that day, men, women, kids, all killed for an unknown reason by unknown faces. He wanted revenge, yet he had no name, no possibility to find out who was the mind behind such a heinous tragedy. Thus, he did the only thing he could do, that is start his fight against the demonic regime with every means he could obtain.

It took months for him to gather a decent amount of people willing to work together for the common cause: normal people who had secretly learned how to fight, a pair of infiltrators in some relevant organizations, friends sustaining the costs with their discreet wealth… yet no man or woman from the lower Sector had ever helped them. Every single one of them had mocked their desperate fight, calling them fools because, why stressing your mind and body over something bigger than them, over something that won’t ever change? Let’s just survive like beasts among beasts, let’s become beasts ourselves, criminals looking for their own benefit.

No, that wasn’t his way. Were Hyunwoo and Wonho really any different? 

Time passed slowly as his mind was flooding with memories and anger, and those few minutes in which the two men were gone seemed as endless as hours.

When Seokjin came back followed by them, everyone finally took their sit in the basement room, and the presentations started. Obviously, there wasn’t the whole group, since the movement could count on a number of about a hundred units, but only those who were the firsts to join the fight: Namjoon and Seunghoon, the leader and his vice; Seokjin and Byulyi, their exceptional doctors; Hoyeon, Siha and Changkyun, mechanics specialized in avant-garde steam technology; Jimin and Jongho, martial arts trainers; Yongsun and San, always busy with potions and artificial magic; Hongjoong, one of the few humans capable of steering an airship. Then there were Hoseok, Hyejin, Wheein, Geonhak, Mingi and Yunho.

“Are you sure it won’t be a problem for us to stay here?” Hyunwoo put a hand on Seokjin’s shoulder, exchanging a brief look with Wonho.

“No, not at all. It’s only Taehyung and me here, since everyone else goes back to their homes usually before the sun rises. The spare room is all yours.”

“Thank you, we don’t know how to express our gratitude, this is a great opportunity for us to help where it really could make the difference.”

“Yes, about that…” Namjoon took the floor, demanding everyone’s attention. “As you all know, I was particularly insistent in having Wonho and Hyunwoo in our movement, and that is because they both follow a military training, and their help could be fundamental in the actions we are planning to undertake in the near future.”

Hoseok rose and eyebrow. “Actions? Explain further, please.”

Their leader stood up, stopping in front of the map hanging on the wall. “Our activity in the Third Sector has improved lately. I noticed that it’s easier for us to organize our plans, unlike during the first months when lots of our comrades were unfortunately captured. We have more means, more resources, more money. That’s the reason why I think we should take another step, especially now that we have two expert warriors on our side.”

“We can’t continue with these little conflicts only.” Seunghoon had reached Namjoon’s side, placing a hand on the map. “We need a base, something like our own headquarters, and that can’t be this house. Of course, this will remain an important position; however, it will bring us nowhere. This is the reason why Namjoon and I started elaborating a new plan. We need to conquer, take control of weak areas and strategic points. Specifically, we are talking about the southern area of the Forth Sector.”

Jimin, who was by Taehyung’s side, sat bolt upright with a jolt at the mention of the area. “The Maryan Gates? Are you out of your mind? That area is full of demonic resources.”

Namjoon shook his head, hands on his hips. “The authorities are still convinced that we are a small movement. Even if they consider us a threat, they still underestimate us. They don’t know our real numbers, nor where we are located. They certainly don’t expect an attack to one of their emplacements, and the element of surprise will be fundamental. We’ll wait three more week, enlist as many rebels as we can while we organize every detail, and then we’ll prepare our attack. The Maryan area is isolated if compared to other suburbs of the District.” His hand immediately pointed at the area, tracing its perimeter. “The river closing the eastern side is a great advantage, whereas the southern border is only forests and clearings up the mountains. No houses, no connections with the Third District. Lastly, the border with the Fifth District isn’t a factor, since the institutions have little to no control over the lower sectors.”

“Exactly. Given the rapidity of the operation, the only real threat will be the western border. No use in denying that: it will be a win or die operation. However, we can’t wait any longer, since if they find us here, it’s the end of our dreams of freedom.”

Yunho raised his hand to ask for everyone’s attention, interrupting Seunghoon. “How could we do that though? We lack the proper offensive means to lead such a crucial operation.”

“Before having all of you here…” Namjoon took some steps in Hoyeon’s direction, placing a hand on his back. “I had a brief talk with our four mechanics. Let’s say that they are preparing a little surprise, they will explain everything soon.”

“We can’t go into details now, since everything has to be perfect.” Changkyun was just by Hoyeon’s side, shuffling without real interest a tarot deck. “However, we can clarify one thing: specifically, our main target will be the airship.”

Hongjoong, who had been quiet until that moment, suddenly leaned forwards with his hands on the armrest of the sofa. “Are you serious, Changkyun? Gods, this will be a dream!”

“Of course I am serious, but this won’t be a joyful walk through the woods.”

Hongjoong scoffed crossing his arms. “Nothing has ever been a joyful walk through the woods for us, Changkyun.”

As everyone started bickering, Taehyung kept his obstinate silence, quietly observing the two mysterious men, Namjoon who was rolling his eyes, then Hongjoong. He was three years younger than himself, yet he had already experienced a lot: the weight of loss, a shattered family, lack of money, back-breaking jobs that allowed his mother and infirmed father to survive… then there was the story on how he learned how to steer an airship, and the reality is, that no one truly knew. He never talked too much about his past, and even though he was quite an extroverted person, Yunho and Mingi were probably the only ones capable of dissipate his mistrust.

Once the chattering had become too loud, Namjoon called everyone to order. “Obviously we have to conquer the whole headquarter first, before trying to break the defenses of the airship.”

While the leader kept explaining, there was still a feeble noise of whispers in the room.

Taehyung checked the clock. It was two in the morning.

A card fell from Changkyun’s grip, casually as Taehyung’s eyes lingered on him.

Was it the knight of swords?

It was one of those moments when his mind kept losing the focus, when his body couldn’t concentrate on the people around him. He felt like suffocating, he felt like everything was too big for him. Yet he was the one who started everything, and he would do that again and again, because that was the only right thing to do. The pressure, the hate burning inside of him, they were eating him alive, while fueling his spirit at the same time towards the sweetest yearning for freedom, for victory.

Ache. Ache thundering into his head.

“Once we get there, we can break through the portal, and…”

Namjoon was explaining some practical details of the future plan, only a quick resume of what was waiting for them in the next few weeks.

“Taehyung.” A whisper suddenly tickling his ear. Jimin was looking at him with a reassuring smile, a gentle hand squeezing his knee. “Go, it’s okay.”

So he stood up, followed by a dozen of questioning eyes, and just left the room with a quick pace.

Once in his small bedroom, he closed the door and lighted a little candle, the long shadows against the wall almost moving, distorted, following the deepest thoughts flowing through his mind. A flash of crimson, the knight of cup…

There, he sat in front of his small desk, gently grabbed the quill, and started writing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone!  
> Sooo, here is the second chapter. I feel like some parts of the plot are quite complex, but I hope everything's clear enough for the moment.  
> Feel free to leave me your impressions and opinions. What do you think about the steampunk setting and the demon's society?
> 
> See you all next time! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Well well, the first act has come to its end. Opinions? Thoughts? Would you like a continuation to this chapter?  
> Let me know what you think here or on my [Twitter](https://twitter.com/jantarkv/)!
> 
> Have a nice day, rest and take care!


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